


Tides of War - Shorts

by Sukiya62



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Dark Elves, Dragonborn (D&D), Drow, Forc (Half-Fiend Half-Orc), Half-Elf Tiefling, Half-Elves, Half-Fiend, Half-orc, Human, Multi, Tieflings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukiya62/pseuds/Sukiya62
Summary: It's soon after the civil war between the cities Aëte'aevon and Vernon. The city of Vernon has won the war thanks to the efforts of a small party. After a long and tedious two year battle, the party is now celebrating alongside the rest of the city in their triumph. However, something dark and ominous looms over the city. No one dares confirms its presence in fear of jinxing their good fortune, but no one can deny it is there. What this presence is you shall soon find out.(This is just going to be a collection of shorts from a campaign I'm in, in no particular order.)





	Tides of War - Shorts

**Author's Note:**

> A little short I wrote based on something that happened to my character during the campaign I’m in. Apparently our DM came up with it on the fly and I effing love it???? Ha. Anyway, Astrid is a character I’ve had for several years and I just translated her into DnD stuff. She’s a half high elf tiefling (since tieflings are already half demons)
> 
> I'll likely be posting more about Astrid in her original world and setting, but until then enjoy her in DnD I guess, lol.
> 
> Summary:  
> After defeating a lycan and having spent the night celebrating their victory, the party is now perusing the town and has split up to cover ground and get things done in a timely manner.

Astrid was mentally preparing herself to face the members of high society once more as she and several others made their way towards the gates that led to that part of town. The only reason they were going there was to speak with the blacksmith, the only one in town. She wasn’t eager to go, but she needed to get her rapier fixed. She was also curious to see what else the blacksmith would have in stock. She was always up for getting new weapons. She had a Drow, his butler, and a Dragonborn in her party, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember their names. She knew the Dragonborn as “The Cleaver” simply for the fact that he had a tendency to cleave things in half in battle. He also didn’t really speak much, so that made things a tad bit harder to remember his name.

As for the Drow and butler… they had only been a part of their party for one day, so she wouldn’t know their names. She also found them a bit annoying. It was bad enough with one Drow that knew next to nothing about their world.. now there was another one? At least he was a cleric and could heal the party if need be. And… he _had_ provided her Sanctuary during their last battle and saved her from dying. She supposed she should be grateful for that.

The rest of their party was at a bookstore, since their leader Newt wanted to look up some things. She was confused as to why Eris wanted to go to the bookstore, but she didn’t question it. Kiirehtt was just…. Kiirehtt. (Honestly, the bard should _really_ get another weapon.. or at _least_ sell the rapier they never use. Astrid was confused why they even had it in the first place.) The new Kenku was difficult to talk to, and their ranger, Sampson, was passed out drunk in the tavern still. So, the party in the library was going to meet them at the blacksmith later, likely once Newt was done.

Before she really realized it, they had reached the gate. She held back the grimace that was itching to spread across her face and show her distaste for the situation, and instead placed a haughty look on her face. That should help her pass as a noble. She pushed past the three members of her party and approached the guards.

“Halt, what business have you here?” he asked, looking down on her with a look of disgust on his face.

Astrid pulled a pendant out of her pocket that held her family crest on it. “My party and I would wish to pass through and see the blacksmith.” she said, her nose held high as she handed the guard the pendant. He looked it over, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“Amsel? Didn’t they all die 10 years ago?” he asked skeptically.

Astrid put a frown on her face, letting her eyes water slightly. “Yes.. what a tragedy it was to lose both my parents in one night… Thankfully I had survived to live another day and continue the family bloodline. I am also forever grateful for the immediate capture and death of the culprit.” She sniffled slightly and looked down, feigning tears.

The guard looked a bit skeptical. “One moment please.” He then turned and went into the gatehouse. A few moments passed and he reemerged, disbelief plain on his face as he returned her pendant. Astrid was pretending to straighten herself and blink back tears as she gave him a small thanks for the return of her crest. “It all clears. You may pass.” He gave a slight bow to her then and then called for the gates to open. Once they were, their party passed through and entered the fray.

The square was brimming with nobility and aristocrats and it took everything in Astrid to not blanch. She _hated_ the aristocracy with a _passion_. She couldn’t wait until this was over with. As she was busy grumbling to herself, she faintly heard the butler trying to get information out of one of the passing nobles. The man turned up his nose at the man, calling him some derogatory term and it made Astrid’s blood boil.

She turned on her heel then, cape swirling around her, and she got up in the man’s personal space, shoving her crest in his face. “How about you tell _me,_ then?” she ground out, resisting the urge to punch him.

He seemed to be ready to brush her off as well, until he really looked at the crest she held. His eyes widened and he looked at her in disbelief. “I thought the Amsels were killed 10 years ago…” he murmured.

“I’m the sole survivor and heir to the family.” she snipped. The man nodded and gave them the directions to the blacksmith. Astrid snorted in disgust and snarled out an insult, degrading him for degrading her party. She may not know them well, but she respected them and knew they didn’t deserve to be insulted by the likes of _these_ people. With that, they carried on, Astrid not hiding her disgust with high society.

They had almost reached the blacksmith when their path was blocked by a man with a red cloak. It was obvious he was of noble birth, but he seemed to be held in higher regards than the ones they had passed earlier. He looked down on them, and there was something about him that struck a chord in Astrid. A sense of… _familiarity_. “What business does riffraff like _you_ have here?” he asked.

“We were just on our way to see the blacksmith.” Said the butler. The man laughed heartily then, and there was a menacing glint in his eye.

“I think you’d best turn around and leave.” Astrid felt herself get riled up, a rage lighting up inside of her and fueling her. She whipped out her pendant and showed it to him.

“I suggest you let us pass.” she threatened, not even _trying_ to hide the murderous glint in her eyes now. She was over this. She left this society for a _reason._ The man took a passing glance at her pendant and tossed it away. Astrid watched as it landed in a small puddle of mud. The rage flared and if she were a full demon, she knew her eyes would have bled red by now and she would’ve ripped his head off.

“State your name.” she growled, voice low and menacing.

He chuckled a bit, and his humor only angered her more. “Alexander Crowwood of the Wülven clan.”

The name plucked something in her and she furrowed her brows slightly in thought. She backed off somewhat, trying to figure out who this man was. Why was his name so familiar? Where had she heard it before? Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear what the Drow behind her said to the man. All she knew was that one moment he was humored, and the next he had called in guards and they were standing before him. She held back a groan and resisted the urge to run a hand down her face in frustration. She couldn’t leave them be for one moment, could she? _Dear Freyja, help me…_ She said in a silent prayer to her goddess. However, she noticed the guards and Alexander begin to quiver a bit. She looked behind her and saw that the Dragonborn had grabbed hold of his sword and was looking at them menacingly. She smirked and turned to face the noble once more. She could use this to her advantage.

“I’m Astrid Amsel and I suggest you get out. Of. My. _Way._ ” she threatened, her voice snarling on the last word. She watched as several emotions flew across his face before he finally decided on confusion.

“Amsel? But they all died 10 years ago.” _God!_ She was _sick_ of _hearing_ that!

“I can _assure_ you that I’m of the family. Why don’t you check my crest that you so _kindly_ threw in the mud earlier.” she replied, sticking her nose in the air. The guards backed off slightly as he went over to the puddle and picked up her pendant. He wiped the mud off of it and _really_ inspected it this time. His brows were knitted together in confusion.

“But.. I thought.. you…” He looked at her then and an unknown expression crossed his features and settled there. “We have some… _unfinished business_ to attend to. If you would.” He gestured for her to follow him then and she bit her lip. She was nervous, but she refused to let it show. She still hadn’t figured out who he was and how they knew each other.. but she figured she was about to find out….

* * *

They made it to his estate and were seated in his private study. They had been sitting in a tense silence for several minutes, just staring at each other. However, he seemed to break before she did. “What happened? I thought you had died?”

Astrid snorted and crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat. “What does it matter to _you?_ I hope you realize I have no idea who you are.”

“We were arranged to be _wed_.” he replied curtly, slight pain in his eyes. Astrid _lived_ for it. However, her joy was short lived as it all came flooding back to her. She remembered all the days of planning, her meetings with her groom to be, her utter _disgust_ of the entire charade.

Her lip curled as her nose wrinkled. She looked up at him and spoke her mind. “God…. I guess I do remember now.” His eyes seemed to brighten at that and she held back a smirk, wicked ideas forming in her mind. “Yes, I remember that idiotic arrangement. What was it? A mandatory five children? A _happy_ life living in nobility?” She threw her head back and laughed heartily. Once she calmed, she looked up at him through her lashes and relished in the pain in his eyes. “I did everything I could to avoid that union.”

She rose from her seat and placed her hands on the wooden desk, leaning forward. “I even went so far as to kill my own parents.” His eyes widened at that and he opened his mouth to speak, but she continued before he could interrupt her. “Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. And as I’m sure you know… the ‘killer’ has already been caught and executed. The evidence has been ditched and there’s absolutely _nothing_ you can do about it.” she whispered threateningly. Satisfied, she let out a small chuckle and went to pull away. However, he reached out and grabbed her, stopping her before she could leave.

“I will have you, Astrid Amsel.” he snarled.

She leaned in then, standing on her toes to properly get in his face. “I’d like to see you try.”


End file.
